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Sport 34: Winter 2006

6

page 135

6

What God drapes shadow round my feet?
What question hangs about my neck?
No echoes answer from the rocks
where Actaeon fled.

My handmaids all have bathed
and so have I. We will have no more
observance being observed
since Actaeon fled.

Yet, father Zeus, I pray to you,
lay offerings before you of what
I killed today. The best flesh from the loin
I burn upon your altar and ask
what question hangs about my neck,
what God drapes shadow round my feet?